Just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor

You can do whatever you want with money.

Even in the magic world, as long as the society is stable, this sentence can be established.

Like Draco Malfoy.

Last year, because Harry showed extraordinary Quidditch talent in the flying class, Professor McGonagall recruited him into the Gryffindor team, becoming the youngest Seeker at Hogwarts in a century.

This made Malfoy, who had not gained Harry's friendship on the train that had just arrived at Hogwarts, become jealous beyond recognition.

So in the second year, Malfoy, who felt that his Quidditch level was not enough to join the Slytherin team, begged his father to activate the "money ability".

Donated seven new brooms to the Slytherin team on a personal note, allowing Snape to take Malfoy to the team's Seeker spot.

Of course the smug Malfoy found time to show it off in front of Harry.

This morning was the perfect time.

It's just that his showing off didn't have a very good effect.

Harry's friend, the girl from a Muggle family, Hermione, pointedly pointed out that Malfoy's entry into the Quidditch team depended on his father's wealth, not his own strength.

This made him unable to resist swearing out that extremely ugly word.

"No one asked you, you smelly little mudblood!"

Immediately, the expressions of everyone around who knew the meaning of the word changed.

Ron couldn't help it on the spot, angrily pulled out his wand and pointed it at Malfoy.

However, he forgot that his wand was broken, and the spell not only failed to hit Malfoy, but instead affected him and became a laughing stock on the field.

When Malfoy scolded Hermione, Sherlock quietly came behind the group of students.

Seeing that Ron was hit by his own spell, he walked in from behind the crowd.

"Excellent snot spell Weasley, if you used it in my class, I'd give Gryffindor five points."

Sherlock's indifferent voice made everyone on the field quiet.

As soon as his voice fell, he stretched out his wand and used a high-level universal release spell on Ron to save him from the dilemma of constantly vomiting slugs.

Then he turned his gaze to Malfoy.

To be honest, he knew that the child's nature was not very bad, but the wrong family education made him a typical bear child.

But unfortunately, Sherlock hates bear children the most.

"Twenty points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy, you'll have to clean all the boys' toilets in the castle in the next week, and Professor Snape will know about it, and I'll tell him personally at dinner tonight. ."

Sherlock's voice was cold, and his eyes seemed to be able to freeze people into ice.

Malfoy just glanced at him before subconsciously moving his eyes elsewhere.

He looked very aggrieved, but he couldn't do anything to Sherlock, and in the end he could only leave the Quidditch field with a gloomy face and the Slytherin team.

Sherlock is not a native wizard in the wizarding world, and he doesn't quite understand how much the word "mudblood" in wizards hurts wizards from Muggle families.

But he knew that the meaning of Malfoy's words to Hermione was the same as the discriminatory meaning of the bus aunt with the sky pattern saying "the stinky foreigner is coming to beg for food".

How hateful that aunt was, and how disgusting Malfoy's behavior was now.

Harry and the others were naturally cheering for the "justice" after Sherlock appeared.

Ron blushed, and he was still immersed in Sherlock's praise for him, stammering thanks.

"Thank you, Professor Forrest."

Sherlock only left them a cold and handsome back.

"The weather is nice today, I wish you a good time at the stadium."

The girls of the Gryffindor team watched him leave with fascination.

"If only I could marry Professor Forrest after I graduate," batter Arya muttered to herself.

Chaser Angelina laughed.

"You're only in the fourth grade and you're thinking about these things. Even if there is a chance to marry Professor Forrest, it's me who will do it first. After all, I'll be graduating next year!"

"Hmph, you won't see Professor Forrest when you graduate, but I can see him in school every day!"

They had an infighting over who had a better chance of getting Sherlock, and Captain Wood just wanted to hurry up to train at this time. He couldn't wait to win this year's Quidditch Championship.

However, just as they were about to get on their broomsticks and return to the sky above the stadium, dark clouds suddenly shrouded the otherwise clear sky.

A dazzling lightning flashed over Harry and the others, and then the big raindrops fell down, soaking their robes, and also soaking up the mood they had just woken up to practice ball.

Wood is howling to the sky, complaining about the strange weather.

Harry wiped the rain off his face and muttered to himself.

"Evidently, Professor Forrest wished us a good time just now~www.NovelMTL.com~ The conflict on the court was just an episode for Sherlock today.

He passed through Hogwarts Castle from the Quidditch pitch and was about to go out to Hogsmeade from the main gate when it suddenly rained heavily.

He is still not used to the unpredictable weather in England.

Fortunately, the convenience of magic can be reflected in all aspects of life.

Sherlock found an old broom from the utility room on the first floor, turned it into a wide umbrella with his wand, and used a waterproof and moisture-proof spell on his robe.

Holding up the big umbrella, he walked slowly into the rain curtain.

The summer rain will make the air fresher and the temperature more suitable, which is very suitable for going out with an umbrella.

The road to Hogsmeade was his first time, but he was very familiar.

Naturally, the credit goes to the Marauder's Map confiscated from the Weasley twins.

That map was so useful, Sherlock had to admire the ingenious ideas and creativity of the people who made this map.

Because there was no time for the senior student Hogsmeade Week, and it suddenly rained heavily, there were not many pedestrians in this wizarding town.

Going straight along the main road, Sherlock easily found the three broomstick bars that Professor McGonagall said.

He pushed open the front door of the bar, and a warm and sweet smell came out from inside.

Under the soft orange light, wizards in twos and threes sat at the small round table drinking and chatting. After Sherlock entered the door, a familiar voice greeted him.

"Here, Sherlock."

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